War Tactics (1/1 - Vampire Diaries)
Title: War Tactics
Rating: PG 15ish
Pairing: Damon/Bonnie (ish)
Disclaimer: Vampire Diaries belongs to L.J Smith and the lovely people who brought it to TV
Summary: Damon wants a truce with Bonnie - his method to achieve this goal, however, is questionable.
Author's Note: Holy cow, I write something other than Inception fiction, who knew!? Inspired by the lovely snarkiness of TVD's season opening scenes between Bamon. I am ignorning the elephant in the room that is Caroline (and to some extent Jeremy, although there is a vague reference to it). My first Bamon fic ever. Enjoy!
Damon has long since decided he could go a lifetime (a few lifetimes actually) without being on a receiving end of another ‘morally better than you’ Bonnie induced headache.
The fact that the little witch can so easily squeeze his brain makes him…well, just a tad bit nervous (not that he’ll be announcing that out loud to anyone anytime soon). She is progressing at a rapid rate and he worries that soon she’ll be able to make good on her promise to turn him into vampire flambé.
So with all this in mind, Damon plots. He is going to find a way to make peace with Miss Bennett.
Even if he has to be his usual underhanded self to do so.
X
Bonnie arrives home later than Damon expected.
He figures that she has been having a research party with his dear sainted brother and the fair Elena. A gigantic waste of time in his mind - they aren’t going to find the answer to defeating Katherine in a book. Katherine is fueled by her emotions - all they need to do is manipulate them, turn them on her. However, his actions in the past few weeks seemed to have rendered his opinion null and void.
Fine with him - he’d rather not be a part of the Scooby gang anyway.
Damon is sprawled over the ratty sofa in the living room, flipping through the Tivo offerings when he hears the key in the lock. He doesn’t bother to look up, listening as she drops her things right by the door and makes a tentative call for her father.
Then she is standing in the doorway of the living room. Her eyes are impossibly wide and on him. He offers her a friendly smile. “Bonnie, you are way past your curfew. Naughty little witch…”
“How?” She asks, and he can see her eyes steel, her body tense. Red Alert - shields up.
Damon sits up, tossing the remote over his shoulder. It clatters on the ground, sliding under the overstuffed armchair. “You know, your father is a surprisingly trusting man. He just asked me right in when I told him I was a classmate of yours and we had a study date.”
Bonnie’s eyes immediately go to the staircase. He has been around long enough to venture a guess at what is going on in that lethal mind of hers. “Come on, Bonnie, give me a little credit. I don’t make it a habit of slurping on nice fellows who invite me in and offer me a soda.” He makes a face. “Seriously, he offered me a Fresca. Then he went to bed. Again, trusting man. You might want to work on that.”
She appears to relax a little, before leveling a rather impressive glare in his direction. One brain squeeze coming up. “Get out of my house.”
Damon raises, a smile playing across lips. “Make me.”
His words are rewarded with a sharp pain that begins behind his eyes and quickly spreads. He winces but resists the urge to clutch his head. She can only hold out so long and appears to be breathing a little heavy when she finally releases him. He opens his mouth, stretching out his jaw and rubs his fingers at his temple. “My, my Bonnie, is that any way to treat an invited guest?”
“Get out,” She repeats and Damon resists the urge to tell her she sounds like a broken record. He imagines she has amazing recovery time.
“Okay, okay,” He says in a sing song voice that appears to annoy her. He has to push past her to reach the door, and does so with relish, enjoying the way her entire body seems to tense up when his shoulder touches hers. With one hand on the doorknob, he turns to her. “You know, Bonnie. Now that I have been invited in, I may stop every once and awhile. I noticed you have the entire second season of True Blood on your Tivo. I need to catch up with the wacky adventures of Bill and Sookie.” She appears at a loss for words and he grins. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
As if that is going to happen.
X
Damon waits three days.
This time he is standing in front of her bedroom door. He can hear her, his keen ears picking up each subtle move as she fights to wake up. Finally her hand slams down on the alarm (thank God because he had been getting ready to smash the thing into a million pieces) and he hears her feet thump on the floor, heading to the door.
Stunned Bonnie in five, four, three, two…
The door opens and he is standing right there. He offers her a smile even as her mouth falls open and strangled squeak falls out. Well, strangled only because he is impossibly fast and smoothers it with his hand. “Your poor father is asleep down the hall. Is that any way to repay him after a hard night at work?”
He knows she is stunned right now - brain riddled with sleep, and shock coursing through her veins. He can hear her heart beating at a near impossible pace and for a moment he has to work to reign himself in. She must be doing the same because suddenly his hand feels like it has been dipped in fire. He pulls back, teeth clenched. “Ow, Bonnie. Really?”
Her heart rate is slowing. Pity. She crosses her arms and for the first time he realizes that she sleeps in a t-shirt. And only a t-shirt. He can’t help the grin that curls his lips. “Mmm, the Ramones. Great band,” He tells her as his eyes travel over the exposed skin, the supple curves before finally meeting her own.
Bonnie’s skin flushes, blood rushing to the surface and he can feel his teeth ache. It is so close, so easy to take. Correction - would be so easy to take if she wasn’t a vampire hating witch. “Damon,” her voice is lowered, her eyes shifting from him to the closed door of her father’s room. “Why are you here?”
“Forgive me for wanting to offer a ray of sunshine in the morning. Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?” He shook his head sympathetically. “I hate it when that happens. Do you have a crick in your neck? I could massage it out for you…”
His hands are already raising when she speaks, “Keep them by your sides or I’ll turn them into torches.” He complies, if only for the fact that setting off the smoke detector above his head will have her father running out and ruining his little plan.
“You are a cranky one in the morning, Bonnie,” Damon tells her. “Maybe I’ll come back later when you are in a better mood.” He takes the stairs two at a time, aware of her eyes boring into his back.
He’s probably ruined her day. The realization makes him smile.
X
Damon waits a week before he invades the inner sanctum of her bedroom.
He knows how important privacy is to a teenage girl and delights in violating it. He stands, his filthy shoes (because he came through the woods and in the window this time) sinking into her pristine carpet. He knows she is downstairs eating supper with her father. She has no idea that he is here, taking in the muted colors of her walls, the photos of she and her friends plastered everywhere. There are no signs of witchcraft here. He supposes she doesn’t want dear old dad to have a coronary at the idea of his daughter dabbling in the black arts.
He opens drawers, finding them not nearly as neat as the rest of her room. He rifles through them, stopping now and then to examine trinkets, concert stubs - a diary. Oh, perfection.
He is laid out on her bed his eyes skimming her inner thoughts when she opens the door. She seems less surprised this time. He figures she has come to expect him. “Bonnie, does Elena know that you once found Matt wildly attractive? Bad friend, witch, bad friend. What is that saying? Chicks before dicks?”
She levels an impressive amount of power at him, the book flying from his hand, his entire body wracked with pain. Fortunately for him, she can’t sustain it for very long and appears to sag weakened against her door. “I am going to kill you.”
“We’ve established that months ago,” Damon tells her, staying in his position on her bed for a moment longer, allowing himself to heal. He does not let on just how much he has been affected by her little display. “I think we need a new avenue of dialogue so we don’t run the risk of becoming stale. How about something along the lines of ‘Damon, I’ll stop trying to scramble your brains’? Eight words that could easily fall off those gorgeous lips of yours.”
“Damon, you have to stop coming here,” She tells him, and he knows that she is recovering, getting ready for another attack.
He pushes himself off the bed, standing to his full height. Best to do this when she is still recharging. He moves fast, pressing her against the wall. He likes the way she never flinches, standing tall even as she is crowded into a corner. “You can’t make me can you?” He asks with a knowing smile. “Oh but you have tried. I bet you have spent a great deal of your research time looking for ways to rescind my invitation but you are coming up empty handed. Not even Emily’s grimoire offers a solution, does it?” For the first time he sees a flicker of real fear. It is intoxicating.
“I’ll set you on fire,” She warns and he sighs, eyes closing and his head falling until his forehead rests against hers. It is amazing how warm she feels against his cool skin.
“Bonnie, we just went over this. Becoming a broken record is beneath you,” Damon tells her. He pulls back before she can singe anything but he doesn’t let her out of the corner. “I wonder why you haven’t told Elena or even Stefan about this. But then you are a proud one, aren’t you? You don’t want to admit when you have a problem.”
“You are not a problem, you are an irritation. One that I will be sure to get rid of,” She tells him, her eyes flashing. She is nearly back to her usual self, ready to come at him again.
“Oh I doubt it. I like your little home. Especially this room. So many interesting things.” Damon finally steps back and she is quick to extract herself from between him and a wall. She moves to the middle of the room and he turns toward her, smiling. “Do you know that while you were downstairs making idle chitchat with your daddy I was up here getting to know you better? You have interesting collection of things. Especially in the underwear department.” He sticks a hand in his pocket to extract his trophy. A pair of lacey purple underwear that leaves little to the imagination. “These caught my eye.”
Bonnie blushing furiously again, and he can feel the heat just radiating off her. Oh how she would like hurt him. He chuckles at the thought of her trying and closes his fist around the silky material. “I think I’ll keep them. You don’t mind do you?” She seethes and he grins. “Of course you do, but I don’t think you can truly stop me, now can you? You don’t want to zap yourself again tonight. What if Elena needs you? What if Katherine stops by?” He stuffs them back in his pocket and heads for the way he came in. He stops so they are standing shoulder to shoulder. She is doing her best to give him a look of absolute hatred. It’s cute really. He inclines his head a little, his lips nearing her ear. He takes a moment to acknowledge the fact that she smells intoxicating before he speaks, “Sweet dreams.”
He can feel her extend her power toward him as he leaps off the window sill. But he is long gone before it can even touch him.
X
Damon has to be careful this time.
He can hear her over the sound of the water. He splays a hand on the door and listens as she sings along side the radio. He is surprised to learn that she can actually carry a tune - her voice has taken on an almost sultry vibe and he likes it. He makes up his mind to tell her so as he quietly pushes open the door.
He is assailed with steam and grimaces a little. He may wilt in his leather jacket but the haze does provide excellent cover. The blaring radio covers any noise that he may make (because lets face it, Damon has long perfected the art of stealth) and he seats himself on the edge of the sink countertop.
And just watches.
He is afforded a wonderful view of the outline of her body through the frosted glass. She really needs to stop choosing those billowy peasant blouses and ill fitting cardigans. She is doing the world a grave injustice by hiding away her curves.
The room smells of her. He decides, as he swings his legs carelessly, that she smells earthy, and it makes perfect sense to him given her extra curricular activities. He cannot comprehend why she would want to cover that delicious scent with some flowery soap that tickles his nose. Then again, he is not a teenage girl and is forever thankful for that.
He has relaxed against the foggy mirror when she finally reaches out to turn off the water. He watches her body still and smiles knowingly. “Oh Bonnie, you think you can stay in there forever but you can’t.” He trails off, giving her a few moments to make up her mind. She doesn’t move. “You’ll find that I can wait an obscene amount of time. Comes with being alive for a few centuries.” She continues to hide herself behind the protective barrier of the glass and he groans. “Fine, I’ll turn around. I never figured you for a prude. Aren’t you witches into chanting naked in forest clearings?” He slides off the counter and then turns away from the shower.
Lucky for him, he gets the eyeful he is after reflected back at him in the mirror. She moves as quickly as she can, opening the shower door and reaching for the towel folded neatly on the toilet seat. She tries to wrap it around her body in one foul swoop but Damon manages to see her in all her glory before she can cover herself.
He likes what he sees.
With the towel firmly in place, Bonnie makes a dash for the door but of course he is quicker. He presses his back against it, slamming it shut as she collides with him. Her wet body comes into contact with him and he grins. “Well, well, isn’t this cozy?”
She is glaring at him and he can feel the beginnings of her assault clouding his mind. He steels himself as her power envelopes him, cringing as it courses through his body. They are both left weakened, breathing heavily in the steam filled room. “I think it is safe to say that this is getting us nowhere,” he points out when he can speak.
Bonnie’s chest is heaving beneath her towel and he would like to point out that the movement is doing wonders for her breasts but then again, Stefan has casually mentioned that Bonnie is getting stronger every day. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“You haven’t figured it out yet?” Damon asks furrowing his brows. “And they keep telling me you are intelligent…”
“Damon,” Bonnie warns, her eyes narrowing. Her look might be frightening if her hair wasn’t plastered to the side of her head giving her the appearnace of drowned rat. Oh, and if he were not a centuries’ old vampire.
His hands immediately go up in surrender. “Alright, alright, low blow. Forgive me?”
“Not even if you got on your knees and begged,” Bonnie tells him, her voice low and Damon thinks there is a hint of menace. How cute!
“Tempting, but I usually prefer it the other way around,” Damon tells her before wiggling his eyebrows. She groans in disgust and he places a hand over his heart. “You really are hurting my feelings by brushing off my repeated attempts to get to know you better. We have things in common you know…”
Her response is immediate. “Like what?”
“We’re both Virgos? We both like long walks on moonlit beaches? Kissing under the stars?” His tone grows serious. “We both want to keep Elena safe. I should think that is enough to keep us from each other’s throats.”
“Funny, it wasn’t enough to keep you from mine.”
“Touché,” he concedes. “Bonnie, we are on the same side in this fight, whether you like it or not. It’s time we started acting like it.”
“I will never be on your side, Damon,” Bonnie tells him. She reaches for the doorknob and his fingers curl around her wrist. She whips her head toward him, and he watches as water droplets fly and trace patterns down her skin. He wonders what she would do to him if he tried to follow one with his tongue. It’s almost worth it to find out.
“Never say never,” Damon retorts before letting her hand fall away. “Someday you are going to need me. You’ll beg me to help you. And if between now and then, you’ve played nice, I’ll come to your rescue.”
Bonnie seems to be considering his words carefully. Suddenly, she’s sidled up closer to him, and he can feel water seeping through his clothes. She speaks softly, “The way I see it, you’ll be begging me. And I won’t come to your rescue.” Before he can even comprehend her words she knees him hard in the groin - a decidedly human maneuver. He pitches forward and braces himself on the edge of the counter.
However, it has given Bonnie just enough time to throw open the door and disappear into the perceived safety of her bedroom.
He decides to give this round to her.
X
Damon knows this will be the time he lays it all out for her.
He hasn’t intended to do so; hoping that she would come to an understanding on her own but unfortunately, he may have given her too much credit. If the positions were reversed he would have put two and two together long ago and be done with it. But Bonnie is not him, and she appears to need it spelled out in great detail.
He watches her shift slightly in her sleep. Funny, unlike most humans, she doesn’t look peaceful. In fact, she looks guarded, as if part of her can sense that he is stretched out beside her. If that is the case then he wishes she would just wake up soon. The clock tells him that it is well after two in the morning and he has wonderful plans for the night as soon as he gets this piece of business out of the way.
Deciding he doesn’t want to waste anymore time, Damon reaches over and lets his hand move slowly down the side of her face to the soft skin of her neck. He can feel her pulse beneath his fingers and he is suddenly glad that he had the foresight to eat before he had climbed into Bonnie Bennett’s window.
She stirs and Damon braces his self for the onslaught. When her eyes open slowly, he can see the confusion in them as the sleep clears away. Confusion is replaced by surprise and then by anger. She tries to sit up, but he holds her down with just one hand on her shoulder. “As much as you want this to be a dream, I am terribly sorry
Bonnie but I am not here to ravage you in the middle of the night. Unless you want me to.” He pauses for a moment. “Do you want me to?”
Her response is to heat the hand that pins her to bed. He pulls away and frowns. “A simple no wouldn’t have hurt my feelings,” he assures her as he watches her pull away, tangled in the sheets. The resulting fall from the bed makes him chuckle. He moves so he can lean over the side. She is sprawled on the floor, looking a bit dazed. He notes that the Ramones t-shirt has inched up to reveal a pair of conservative white panties. “Those are nice. Not as nice as the purple ones but I am sure that those weren’t meant for bed time anyway.” He offers her the same hand that she tried to burn off him moments before. She ignores it, pushing herself up on her elbows and regarding him with nothing less than hatred burning in her eyes.
“Damon, I am…”
“Going to kill me,” Damon falls back on the bed with a groan. “God, Bonnie, this is a tad boring. I never thought I would say that about you. Boring Bonnie…it doesn’t quite fit.”
“I am tired of this…”
He isn’t sure he has heard her at first. He glances over to see her looking at him over the edge of the bed. She looks worn - no doubt too many hours spent trying to balance the life of being a student with the life of being a witch. He almost feels sorry for her. Almost. “You want me to stop?”
Bonnie nods, “Yes.”
“Say please,” Damon tells her.
“Never,” Bonnie immediately responds.
“Good girl,” Damon says with a smile. “I’ll stop when you stop.”
“Stop what?” Bonnie asks, and he is reminded that she needs it all spelt out for her.
“Stop trying to make my head explode. Stop trying to give me second degree burns. Stop trying to kill me.” His tone is casual but he gives her a look to show that he is serious.
“Why would I do that?” Bonnie asked, and there it is - the fury in her voice that he has almost missed.
“Because you want me to stop. I can keep this up for a long time, Bonnie. One of these days I am going to come across you doing something that you desperately don’t want me to see. Imagine that you are in bed, your hand between your legs as you think of me…”
“You’re disgusting!” Bonnie is on her feet in an instant.
“Perhaps, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can come in your house any time I want,” Damon tells her. “Day, night. I could live here and there is nothing you can do about it. Think about it. Do you really want me as your shadow?”
She doesn’t have to think long. “No,” she breathes.
“Then stop,” he commands. “Stop trying to hurt me and I’ll stop. It’s a fair deal, Bonnie. Actually, more than fair since I think I have the advantage here.”
“That is a matter of opinion,” Bonnie says quietly.
“Of course it is,” Damon wonders if she likes to poke him. Maybe she won’t take the deal. Maybe they’ll go on in this pattern until she gets old or he gets bored and kills her. “Come on, Bonnie, I just need an answer.”
He can tell that she is loathed to speak when she finally nods, “Okay.”
“Wonderful.” He stands, clapping his hands together. “Shall we seal the deal with a kiss?”
“God, Damon, just get out,” Bonnie says, almost pleading.
“Okay,” he agrees.
X
It’s an uneasy peace.
Sometimes Damon feels a twinge in his head and turns to find her staring intently at him. Sometimes he watches her sleep.
Still, it’s a peace.